


Cold As Ice

by chinarai



Category: The Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/M, zelink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4104802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinarai/pseuds/chinarai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Link seeks her help, Zelda's life turns upside-down and she must face her conflicting throughts and feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i: Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Yes, I disappeared, no, I'm not quite okay, it's 3:28am and I don't know what I'm doing wooo so I'm keeping this short. Just know that I had this idea and I really wanted to write it today, or yesterday when I got home. I'm quite pleased. 
> 
> And yes, I will of course update Antumbra! I need to line and color something before the next chapter can be published, so hang on to your seats. Meanwhile, enjoy this, I'm trying something new
> 
> Have fun! xx

* * *

**Cold As Ice**

* * *

**i: Cerulean**

* * *

 

Winter was coming, though they had yet a few weeks to go until it officially started. Most trees were bare to the bark, save for Ordona Province with its lush evergreen trees, and the dead, dry leaves were swept away by the cold wind that came down from the snowy mountains up north, leaving nothing but a faded out grass to give a touch of color to the mostly brown landscape. The harvest that year, thank the Goddesses, had been good and they were blessed with plentiful pumpkins, grains and other stackable vegetables that could last them the duration of the harsh winter and maybe a month more.

The homeless people that were wandering the streets were taken to inside newly built hostels, where they would have warm meals, a bed, clean clothes and a place to shower. The place was still experimental and was scheduled to run for half a year to see if the plan would be fruitful; while some of them appreciated having another roof to sleep under after having lost their own for one reason or another, some were reluctant and would not go – to say they had to use force to take some of them out of the soon-to-be-covered-in-snow streets did not actually mean she was exaggerating, but she would rather have to do that than have to deal with people dying from hypothermia.

Queen Zelda glanced at her nightgown hanging behind the door, fingers instinctively gripping the towel around her shoulders tighter. Getting changed these days was always so much harder and somewhat a challenge for someone like her, especially when she had to stay put for long minutes in the cold morning air while her maidens tightened her corset and ruffled her endless layers of skirts. That was why she liked to get changed by herself immediately after shower – the warm steam of the water made it easier to leave the bathtub, quickly dry herself and slip into her cold, thin satin nightdress that made her feel like she was nude when the winds were howling outside.

She let her brown her down, loose in waves, hoping it would warm her neck and make the chill go away, and with her palms, she pressed her boobs back into her chest, a vain attempt to bring heat into her body. The latter never worked, that she knew, but time and time again she tried, because it never hurt too much to try.

A deep breath and the door swung open, cold air invading her precious bathroom, and Zelda, with arms crossed over her chest, quickly padded towards the big fluffy carpet set before the fireplace, that did not seem like it was lit at all. “I love the cold,” she said through clenched teeth, and she really did, but she enjoyed sleeping in the cold weather under heaps and heaps of thick comforters – not all the rest that came with winter. “I _love_ the cold.”

Her bare toes curled around the soft material underneath them, and her fingers curled around themselves into loose fists. Her bedroom slippers disappeared well over a month ago and no one had seen them since, and Zelda did not bother having another one be made for one, it was still warm, and two, why kill a sheep just so they could make her a pair of flimsy shoes? Now she regretted it, but she still did not want a sheep to be killed. What a mystery it was, her slippers disappeared without a trace. They might as well have crossed a portal and landed in another dimension. Maybe, maybe Midna was wearing them now.

The thought almost made her lips curl in the corners.

Zelda only bolted for her bed, escaping from the cold and the penetrating thoughts. Sometimes it was best to run than to face what she could not deal with. She could handle Ganondorf, but the mystery that was Link, Midna and what they went through was too much for her. Even now, nearly two years later, nothing was revealed, not to her, not to anyone. She had to come up with a plausible excuse that _he_ agreed to, one that he could bend his truths in favor of her lies, and she told it to her people, let them believe it and let them seek him after half-truths, silly adventure tales and any anecdotes his creative mind could conjure.  

She delved under the comforters, buried her face into her pillow and counted her breaths, slow and controlled. Everything she touched was still cool to the touch and it would take a few minutes until they warmed up, but until then, the cold was welcomed, what a surprise. The cold – cold water, cold air, cold touch – always cleared her head.

She would not fall asleep until her feet were warm enough to her likings, anyways.

There were too many intruding thoughts, and she would rather get rid of them before falling asleep; the last thing she wanted was to face these same problems, or people, in her dreams – or nightmares. She resorted to thinking of anything that came to mind: fresh bouquets of flowers on her vanity, something that she would not be seeing in quite a while; Lake Hylia at sunrise, something her blue grey eyes had not seen ever since she was in her late years of childhood; puppies nibbling and pulling at her skirts, when was the last time she played with any animal?

That got her thinking, and not for the first time, how her life would be had she been born a commoner, in a cozy little home by the riverside, running barefooted on the earth and chasing butterflies on the nearby flower patch. What could she have seen when her soul was within Midna’s body? If only she could see through her eyes, not only feel faint emotions and hear distorted sounds. Zelda only craved to see all of Hyrule, all of it, not only the most important cities in each province and its neighboring villages, or important farms. She knew neighboring kingdoms better than she knew her own.

A sharp knock on her door rose her from her reverie. The Queen blinked quickly and wiped her fingertips on the underside of her eyes, even if there were no tears to be dried, it was more out of habit, and sat up with a mild displeased look on her face. Still feeling lost after the sudden call late at night, and while she daydreamed about a kingdom that was hers but she never got to see, Zelda pulled away the thick blankets and gingerly placed her bare feet on the freezing stone floor, flinching when a shudder ran up her spine. She stood and slipped a robe over her nightgown, made of a thicker, fluffier material that reminded her of bath towels and the bed she had just left, and then she moved for the door and opened it without further ado.

“Queen Zelda.” The poor light provided by the rusty lantern could have made it impossible for anyone to see, but she recognized the person. She would recognize that voice anywhere and his features as well, even if she were blindfolded and had to use her hands to read his face. “I apologize for coming to you so late into the night.”

Zelda knew for a fact that she was more in control of her face than she was of her heartrate, which quickened in the blink of an eye. It was a rare occurrence to talk to him – to _have a reason_ to talk to him – and it was even rarer when he, the Hero Chosen by the Gods, willingly came looking for her. Whatever it was that drove him towards her at that moment had nothing to do with his quest, of that much she was sure of. “It is nothing that cannot be forgiven.” She felt like shrinking behind the door, or hiding under her bed. She could not control it, she could not control him.

He nodded curtly and lowered the lantern. Zelda was aware that he had already glimpsed inside her bedroom and taken in all that he could in these few seconds that passed since his arrival. “I really hope I am not disturbing you.”

She gave him a wry smile; it took great effort, but maybe it was not noticeable after all, she barely felt her lips moving. “Playing nice? That is so unlike you.” Link swallowed, and she thought of her toenails going purple thanks to the cold floor. Was she accusing him of something? Not even she could tell, but have him come knock at her door at this godly hour and pretend like all was well really was making her tick.

“I need your help.” For a split second, the queen considered being sarcastic. She was cold and sleepy, and this man that treated her like she was not involved in the Twilight Invasion at all was keeping her from satisfying her needs. Maybe all she needed was to punch his face and go to bed, but Zelda only nodded once to show that she was listening. “I would rather have you... See the problem.”

She raised an eyebrow, she could not help it. His actions during the invasion earned him access to most rooms of the castle and even his own little house in Castle Town, but sometimes his current attitude made her want to revoke the free pass he had. Still, being the way he was, distant and quiet and unreadable, Link could probably lead her into a dark alley, shove a knife into her stomach and leave her to bleed to death. Zelda did not think he would do it, of course, but _he did not talk to her_ , about anything _ever_! How would she ever know if he blamed her for anything that happened? For Midna leaving, maybe? For not trying to stop her? There was no telling.

But killing her would not bring the Twilight Princess back.

“Your Majesty?”

“Let me just,” she spoke up quickly, just as he made to move in her direction. “Find my shoes.”

No glints of a blade were seen under the flames.

Zelda moved away from the door, going for the windows next. After ten seconds of letting her palms resting over the glass, they were cool enough to ease her worries, so she pressed them all over her face as she made way for her closet under the piercing stare of the hero. She put on whatever pair of boots she could find, perhaps they were mismatching, and grabbed the thickest winter coat in sight, then headed out to meet the blond hero. She closed the door of her bedroom and motioned with a hand for him to lead the way when he did not move, and it took a while more for him to even blink.

Link bent his knees so he could place the lantern on the ground and swiftly threw a robe over her form, pulling a hood over her head. Zelda felt like clawing at her own neck and screaming for help. Never had she imagined she would have to conceal herself again, have to hide in the shadows, watch in the sidelines as her people suffered in the hands of a maniac usurper that liked to call himself a king, with a god that was no better than Zelda herself. They were all tainted and impure, but she liked to believe that, thanks to her Wisdom piece, she was clean.

The hero went on ahead, either unaware of her stillness, or he simply did not care.

And she stumbled to follow behind him, the weight of the robe, the guilt, and the memories crashing down and resting on her frail shoulders. Zelda felt so much stronger when she was wearing her golden pauldrons, so much more... Untouchable and... Unbreakable. The stairs of her castle were never a problem, but now they were almost endless, stretching on and on in the darkness, more appearing after every turn. By the time they reached the second floor, she had no idea of where they were and was turning to him blindly, hating that she had to depend on him once again to lead the way.

It was in times like this when she noticed just how bad her guard was, even two years later after the attack. Most were not on post, and those who were, were either snoozing or chatting, save for a few who were really trying to be better and were putting effort into what they were doing. Her courtyards, for most part, were nearly empty. It was more than easy to sneak out through the main gates and go into town.

His house was... Somewhere. Zelda did not actually know where. She knew once, when she cared, when she thought that maybe he would need a hand or someone to talk to. She did not know how it looked like on the outside, much less on the inside, just like all that Link knew and thought of was a secret that he kept from her, as if she would use it against him. So he led her through the streets, streets that she never got the chance to walk through after the reconstruction, not all of them at least, and when a group of drunk people exited a bar and approached them, he slowed down and walked by closer. And when they were far enough to his standards he would go ahead again, like a guiding dog.

Perhaps that was all he was – a dog, still. In his heart, that was all he knew.

Just when she thought she could not take the bite of the cold air no longer, they stopped before a one story house, not that far from the castle, with a perfect view from her bedroom window. How many times did he see her there, she wondered, if he ever cared to look up? By now, she was convinced it was such an inconvenience to him.

He motioned her in with a sweep of his hand, and inside she went, immediately discarding the robe and hanging it on the first hanger she could find. Zelda was tired of wringing her hands, yet she could not stop it; she had to do something or else she might run outside screaming at the top of her lungs to relieve some of her anxiety. Link loosened the dark scarf around his neck and hung the lantern by the door, and walked away, probably to get some candles or something. Zelda was just glad that he did not indeed try to kill her – what a surprise it would have been if he did – and was left to look around in the dark until he lightened the first candle.

The first thing she saw were three cats sitting in line, one tabby, one grey, and one black, staring straight at her.

“Do you collect cats or something?”

“I take them out of the streets,” he replied as if he did not really want to give her an answer, but if the Hero Chosen by the Gods climbed down of his almighty throne to seek her help, then he would have to play by her rules.

“How nice of you,” Zelda meant it nicely, but perhaps it sounded more deadpanned or emotionless than intended. Still better than sarcastic.

More three candles were lit and he went around placing them on random pieces of furniture to lighten up the place. The second thing she noticed, after that his house was not in a disarray state as she had believed, as if a hurricane had come through the front door and left through the back, was the object half concealed by a couch. “Is that my slipper?”

Link cringed. No one would ever guess that their queen could hit such high notes when caught by surprise; not even when – well. Her layers of clothes shuffled loudly as she went to retrieve her missing slipper, only the left foot, which was bitten all over and was gross with cat saliva. “This is yours?”

“Yes!” She answered, almost aggravatedly, looking at him from over her shoulder with barely pinched eyebrows. That was the closest to anger that he had ever seen her wearing. “Yes, it is, it has been missing for weeks now.” Zelda fully turned to face him, anger and confusion dancing within her, but the anger spoke louder, and she did not know why she was angry to begin with. She just was. “Had I known that you were housing a couple of little bandits I would have– what?” Her words were cut short when more two cats popped out of nowhere, both as white as snow, and joined the other three. The queen sputtered for a moment, trying to find the right words as the hero showed for the first time what seemed to be something other than a better-than-you complex and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and she simply repeated, “ _Do you collect cats or something?_ ”

“Can we focus for a moment?” Zelda would have taken him seriously had another cat just jumped from somewhere and landed on his unruly blond hair. They were six now! Link was careful as he picked the orange stripped feline from his head and placed it on the floor by its equals, murmuring under his breath, “Not now, Sera, papa’s doing important things.” Now that was amusing, and she really wanted to grin, or at least let her lips twitch a little, but as much as that was funny, she could not give herself that luxury.

So Zelda laced her fingers before her navel and squared her shoulders, and let him recompose himself before speaking. “And what is this problem you were talking about?”

The problem responded by itself. On cue, a shrill cry echoed from the back of the house, a desperate wail, loud enough to make the cats scatter and hide behind the furniture. Link disappeared into the hallway and inside a room, shushing noises coming from where he had gone, and Zelda backed away until her hips touched the couch and a hand rested on top of her wildly beating heart. There was too much to think about, too little time to process. The cry was not ceasing and her breathing was only getting quicker. Known and nameless faces appeared in her mind, a list of possible people, reasons, explanations, excuses, truths, lies.

He sought her help. Would he tell her the truth or would he keep things from her just as he always did? Could she trust him in this? There were far too many doubts that should not be there, but Link was Link and he did not seem to like to make things easy for her. But if he sought her... Then he trusted her.

Finally silence, and Link emerged from the way he came from, a noticeable bundle cradled in his arms. Zelda had her back turned to him so she did not actually see it, but she could picture it, and the look on his face, that apprehensive look that would seem so odd on someone so hardened like him now. She could ask so many things, so many easier, simpler questions that he could give easy, simple answers to, but instead all she managed to whisper was:

“Whose child is this?”


	2. ii: Baby Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I wasn't going to update it this soon, not today at least, but after I realized I wrote two and a half chapters of Cold As Ice and just one paragraph of Antumbra this past week I just decided I needed to do something haha
> 
> My plan was to update this quickly and go work on the other story, but I decided to name each chapter, and in the end they'll be named after shades of blue according to the wikipedia page; the real shades, not the official color from x unniversity and other bs alright
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!! More at the post chap notes!

* * *

**ii: Baby Blue**

* * *

“My Queen?” The baby cooed in his arms, probably having their attention caught by one of the many cats. “I am afraid I do not understand your words.”

She turned around, scoffing. Too much was happening in one night and all her control was slipping away from her reach. Had she known that talking to him for an extended period of time would lead her to feeling desperate and lost, she would have closed the door on his face and returned to her bed. “You know damn well what I mean.” Her tongue was caught between her teeth, and she bit hard onto it. Queens were not supposed to swear, not in public, not ever.

His brow was starting to furrow; he was beginning to catch up. “If that is what you are implying–”

“That is exactly what I am implying!” Zelda felt like she was being choked, her voice failing at the end. Her hands cradled her face, fingers knotting around her brown tresses. She wanted to lie on the cold ground outside until all her worries disappeared into the night and she was so numb she would not wake for two weeks or more.

Did word not reach her through Rusl, or Colin, that Ilia was to marry a man, son of her father’s friend, from another village? Was this child the fruit of adultery? The queen bit hard into her knuckle and let out a muffled strangled sound, wishing to faint and wake up without recollection of anything of what was happening. She did not want to be his partner in crime.

Link was not done, it seemed. He took in a deep, sharp breath, and exclaimed. “Do you really think I would go frolicking around!?” Zelda whirled away, wringing her hands before her navel, her hairs standing on end. “Is that what you really think of me?”

“What do you want me to think of you?” She retorted, just as loud, but not as broken as before, almost bending herself in half as she turned again to face him. “All I have of you are impressions, because you never bothered to come and talk to me!” The hero stepped back, pulling the child closer against his chest, an unreadable look on his face. Zelda must have looked like quite the scene, that much she admitted, it was not every day that someone saw the “Ice Cold Queen of Hyrule” on the verge of freaking out. She needed to get out of there.

Zelda went for the door, picking the robe that was becoming a familiar sight again and draping it over her figure, letting it hide her features from him. Run and hide, run and hide. She was nearly panicking by the time her feet made her cross the threshold, hands trembling violently and eyes wide as she ventured into the dimly lit streets, turning at random corners until she realized she did not know the way to the castle even if it was in plain sight.

That baby could be anyone’s. Ilia’s, for sure, that was the first option that came to mind. Then someone, a faceless girl, a brothel girl, maybe. The most virtuous boy would lose all his composure when a woman was standing naked before him, jiggling her baggage and letting him see all she could offer. But nothing, nothing excluded her. Nothing ever excluded _her_ , but how that child came to land on Hyrule, crossed a broken mirror, traversed dimensions was beyond her.

Maybe they were in touch all along, all this time. After all, Link never told her anything. She would not be surprised.

The queen shrunk into the shadows of a building at the sound of incoming footsteps. Hands on her face, breathing low and quiet, Zelda tried to regain some composure and find some of her dignity. The ghosts of the past invasion were coming for her, mocking voices growing louder, hiding in the dark, waiting for the right moment to knock her off her feet and take her under with them. She grabbed her head and shut her eyes tight, and decided to repeat the name of the three Golden Goddesses like a mantra for no words could come to her and no prayer could be formed.

And suddenly, bare hands were touching hers, and though these had only came in contact with her once or twice in the past, it was easy to recognize. Link called her by her title, always by title, repeatedly, trying to get her out of that state. For someone that was so cold and distant, he was gentle and soothing and spoke calmly to her, coaxing his queen into breathing evenly and opening her unfocused blue-grey eyes. “Your Majesty, you were heading towards the most dangerous part of Castle Town.” Her gaze fell on his face, but it seemed his words did not reach her ears. The hero then pulled her away from the stone wall and led her back to his house, her hand firmly held in his. The touch was far from comforting, but it was better than a five feet gap between them, she thought.

Back in his home, he instructed her to sit on his couch while he looked for things in his tiny kitchen across from the living room. “Can I offer you some mint tea?”

Chamomile tea would be ideal to soothe her nerves, but this one would ease her twisting stomach. “That would be lovely, thank you.” Queen Zelda observed as he set the water to boil in a kettle, and then chopped a twig of fresh mint from the clay pot sitting on the windowsill. Before he could wash it, she brought her fingers to her eyes and firmly rubbed her closed eyelids, trying to bring some senses into her body. Apologizing for that was out of question; he did not apologize for being an unreasonable jerk most of the time, so she would not apologize for panicking once.

When she lowered her hands, he was standing before her, a chipped porcelain cup in his hands, steam spiraling up from it. “Sugar?”

She shook her head and took the cup when offered, clearing her throat, “Thank you.”

He nodded, a bit awkward, and walked away whilst wiping his hands on his pants, disappearing into the hallway again. The queen blew air into her cup and let the heat warm her palms, settling as comfortably as she could in the couch. During her panicking, she barely noticed how colder it got outside, now she felt like her nose had been replaced by a handful of snow, and just wanted to dip it into the tea to heat it up. Link returned with the baby in his arms just as she tried the first tentative sip.

The hero of her people, her hero, sat beside her, and she looked at the baby from over the rim of the cup. Big brown eyes stared back at her, like two hazelnuts. There was no Midna in there, though there was the possibility that there was a bit of Ilia somewhere, even if he had Hylian ears. “I found him this evening.” Link began to explain, without her even asking him to do so. Her gaze flickered up to his face, but he was staring straight ahead, out the window. “In an alley nearby, almost fully covered by dead leaves.”

“No one was around,” he continued, not noticing as his visitor downed the hot tea and let it burn her tongue and throat, the only way she found to relieve some of the guilt she felt of accusing that he went around sleeping with some girl. He could do that if he wanted, she reasoned, he is his own person, not her property. “So I took him in, or else he would not survive.” Tears prickled her eyes and she blinked them away, a hand loosely wrapped around her now injured throat. “Telma is out of town. I do not know how to take care of babies.”

Link turned to her, and she straightened a little, feeling more self-conscious now that she realized what he wanted from her. “Honestly,” she hesitated; he had no title and they were not enough of acquaintances to be on first name basis, and shamefully she realized she did not know if he had a last name, “Hero Link,” he groaned, and she dismissed it, “I do not have any experiences in raising or taking care of a child either.”

Both of them glanced down at the baby, who was trying so hard to reach for a stray lock of her hair that was hanging in the space between them, and the blond sighed. “Right. I should have considered that. That was stupid of me. I apologize, Your Majesty.” But again, Zelda was not listening. Instead, she was waving her hair above the little boy’s face, watching as his little hands tried to grab it, watching as he giggled in delight. Funny how her lips twitched then.

Her hair fell on his face. He froze, eyes wide and startled, then laughed merrily, and proceeded to chew on it while she spoke. “No, it is fine, I can help you.”

“Really now?” She nodded, eyes on the child. Zelda did not know how she would be of help, but imagining Link raising the child on his own was terrifying. He was only eighteen, and she was twenty-two. A teenage, single father. She could come with the funds and some help from her maid, mother of three kids of her own, an expert on the topic. Alena would love the kid. He breathed out an almost a relieved laugh. “Thanks.”

“Did you name him?” He shook his head then shrugged, and she mimicked the last action. “We will think of a nice name until the end of the week.” Zelda did smile this time; it was small and barely there, but Link with his ever perceptive eyes surely was able to pick up on it. “Did you try and feed him?”

“I tried to feed him goat milk.” The queen leaned back and away from him, her hair escaping the child’s grasp, eyes falling on his face. “It was hard to feed him without a baby bottle, but... And he... Puked some of it after a while.”

Zelda simply assented with her head. “It happens. Perhaps there is something you did or did not do that caused the vomit.” Her fingertips brushed the baby’s forehead; his head was almost entirely bald save for a few thin dark hairs that were starting to appear. His little fingers enclosed around one of her own, and she froze for a heartbeat before gently prying her hand away. “I must take my leave.”

He could not be older than two months old.

Link returned the infant to the bedroom and closed the door behind him, and before leaving to take her back to the castle, he made sure that he petted his cats, every one of the six felines he owned. It was not deafening, but Zelda never thought she had heard so many cats purring at once before. An odd sight to see him scratching a cat behind the ear it was, but at least knowing that he cared for animals, and a baby, enough to take them out of the streets was enough to make her sleep better at night, or so she hoped. She feared that after Midna’s departure, Link would be too broken to be worthy of the Courage piece.

How silly that thought was, but it haunted her.

The clock on the building across from Hyrule Castle read it was a little over past midnight. It was a starless night and the winds were harsh, dry and cold. Link made a comment to himself under his breath, absent eyes staring at the north. Zelda only managed to pick up on “snow” and “Yetis”, and said nothing as he guided her to her home, brow furrowed as she contemplated his musings. Yetis were rumored creatures that inhabited the highest and coldest peak of Hyrule. No one had seen them in her lifetime, and there were no pictographs in books or catalogs. Those who went to Snowpeak barely survived, thanks to the weather and the wild animals that lived in the path to summit, which made the ascend and descend hard, and they never, ever encountered any Yetis.

And yet, the man before her had come and gone to the top, and he and the Twilight Princess had probably met a Yeti. Zelda remembered Midna feeling cold and complaining about that – she did not like it, _in Twilight Realm it never gets this cold_ , she had said – but that was all she recalled of that time. And he would not tell her their name. Not even that.

Zelda gave him space. Midna left and would never be seen again, they, as far as she knew, would never be in contact again. That could be equal to dying. So he let him mourn, let him be sad over the loss of a dear friend, and did not ask of the things he did, because in her mind he would come to her on his own and would let her know when he was ready. But he never did, and instead he only pushed her away, treating her like she was a bystander and not an active participant that witnessed the Twilight Invasion from up close. And when she would try to get somewhere, he would evade her, build a wall between them and leave her in the dark. It hurt being left out, it hurt not knowing what happened in the country she lived in and had to watch over.  

Happy were her people that believed in the lies crafted by his hands that she once sang to them.

The gap between them was back again, and she was not bothered simply by the fact that he had allowed her into his life, even if for a little bit. The baby was his child, his son; Zelda knew that he knew there was no need to stress that, to reaffirm. She was only the godmother, with no practice or experience in taking care of infants whatsoever, but she had a godson. He would call her Aunt Zelda when he learnt how to speak, and she would buy him birthday gifts. It never occurred to her that she would be chosen by anyone to be a godmother, but life decided to take an unexpected, pleasant turn. Well, so far, it was pleasant.

Link went ahead, his footsteps were silent and one could hardly hear the shuffles of his clothes. Zelda, on the other hand, with four layers on, was anything but quiet as she followed him through the uneven streets of Castle Town, almost tripping on the cobblestone. The hood over her head made her uneasy, but now she was more alert and in control of her thoughts, and her breathing, which was even and calm, and perfectly composed. Like his.

She felt like a scared chicken, running around making noise, being loud as she was when compared to him. Link learned many things during his quest and one of them was to be quiet, walk as stealthily like a cat, sneak up on people and catch them by surprise. She could list many, many other abilities and skills that he learnt over the course of months, but only if she knew them.

“Hero Link.” He halted some streets before they arrived at the castle gates, in a fairly well lit street just out of sight of the few guards on post. “Though these were not my intentions at first, may I ask for something?”

He caught her gaze, cool and steady, hiding a torment. She wanted to reach out and break the walls, let his thoughts and secrets spill out, run free, share the weight of the burden – she kept her hand firmly placed by her side. “I can hear it.”

An amused noise left her, and her eyes fell on the knights returning to the palace. “Would you, please, put the Royal Guard in line?” Zelda pressed her lips together firmly. “They have not learnt their lesson, they will not listen to my general, and I cannot do that on my own.”

Link was once again silent as he considered and weighed her proposal, and Zelda only stared ahead, afraid of what he could think of that. She did not want him to think she was exchanging her help for his, and she was starting to regret asking that of him in a moment like that, but she feared there would be no better time. Her guard really did not learn through their mistakes, and she could not teach them; perhaps their hero could lend her a hand once more and help them be better fighters.

After a short moment, he nodded. “I can do that, My Queen.” Zelda returned the action in thanks, and resumed walking when he did.

The dark robe was returned to him once they were inside the path that led to the front courtyard, the queen refraining from touching his hand when giving it back. “I can handle it from now on. You must return to the baby.”

“Are you sure?” He inquired with pinched eyebrows, and she did not know what to think of that.

“I am,” and with that, she went on ahead, leaving him behind to his doings.

Entering her gardens in the middle of the night the way she was doing felt like a completely different experience when she was calling her soldiers out. “Is this how you defend a country?” Many scattered to their feet at the sound of the familiar voice, stern as ever, and Zelda was sure Link could hear her from the other end of the path. “Sleeping in and not patrolling the streets?” Some could barely walk a straight line, still under the effects of sleep or alcohol, she was not quite sure. “You dare call yourselves Knights of Hyrule?”

Zelda went up the few steps and through the front door before all of them could line up before her outside. She embraced the warmth and rubbed her hands together, racing to her room as fast and quietly as she could go. When she was younger, it was fun to sneak out at night and meet with the cook’s son in the courtyard to play, try to catch fireflies in glass jars and keep them on her vanity for a few minutes until she felt bad and decided to release them. Now that she was older, the idea was not as pleasant; she had to wake up early, had things to do throughout the day, and a restful night of sleep was always, always welcome. She only got their attention to let them know that nothing ever went unnoticed; she had not planned in staying to chat.

Again, the stairs were endless, and by the time she reached her chambers her toes were freezing. The boots were returned to their place and so was the coat, but Zelda decided to keep her thick night robe on, because unlike her nightgown, it made her feel like she was wearing something. Now if only she knew where her maid had put her box of woolen socks, then she would be able to have some peaceful, fulfilling sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post Chapter Notes
> 
> \- The most important thing is: there will be a lot of OCs. A whole lot of them. So far there are six named ones, including the baby, and their importance varies (Alena is one of them, the maid). That's because most of the story happens in Hyrule Castle/Castle Town, so I need to name the castle personnel. And as much as I like the idea of Shad being her advisor and Ashei her bodyguard, I've used that idea so much already lmao
> 
> \- I'm going to do some doodles of their faces so you can see how I imagine them, I don't know when I'll post them tho because I can't get a n y t h i n g r i g h t
> 
> \- If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask! Any weird behaviors coming from Link and Zel will be explained in due time


	3. iii: Teal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, okay, so. Y'all still alive?
> 
> Good.
> 
> There isn't much to say about this extreme lack of updates. I found other things to obsess over, had to go through something quite bad on the first semester, and I've grown fond of writing shorter chapters. Whenever I think I have to hit a word count, I just kinda lose whatever inspiration and motivation I have to write. That, and I still haven't figured out how to write the middle part of this story, so we're in for a bumpy ride here. 
> 
> But anyways, here's wonderwall.

Alena was a tan woman of average stature with a full figure, curled red hair tied on the top of her head held back by a colorful bandana, golden earrings dangling from her pointy ears, a mind full of ideas and a sharp tongue. And a mouth filled to the brim with gossip.

To Zelda, she was the figure of a mother; the woman was not old enough to be her biological mother’s age, were she alive, but she had raised her since she was seven, so that must count as something. And Alena was so close to the queen that, sometimes, it got to her head and she liked to believe that she was the second in charge of the castle, especially when Zelda was away somewhere else, and when she returned she had some things to fix.

But even with all the trouble and misunderstandings she got into, she and the castle personnel were on good terms – except maybe for the general of her guard, but that was one-sided on Alena’s part as far as the matriarch knew.

Their morning routine consisted of pleasantries that never really changed, because no matter how long they knew each other and how close they were, Zelda would not open up to her or anyone, and then Alena would fill in the silence and talk endlessly about her family and children, and all the gossip she heard from all around town and castle, and kingdom. She said she had a sister that knew of everything that went on about Hyrule so it was quite easy to always be updated on the news. The queen would sit in her bathtub or chair, nibbling on fresh fruits with granola or crushed almonds, while her maid brushed her brown hair and let her know that the blacksmith from Kakariko was caught cheating on his wife with a common friend of theirs. That kind of talk never caught the queen’s interest, but she let Alena be, because that was probably the only time of the day she had to sit down and spill all she knew.

Alena was talkative and an avid gossiper, but when Zelda trusted her with anything, she knew better than to go around telling everyone she met.

“Oh, you will like this one, your Majesty!” She said while peeking over Zelda’s shoulder, who only hummed in acknowledgement while munching her breakfast. “Did you know that our Hero has a baby?”

“Already?” Zelda inquired with her mouth full of food, forgetting all composure and etiquette as she craned her neck and tried in vain to glimpse out the bathroom at the clock on her bedroom. “It is too early for that to have already spread out this fast!”

Golden eyes widened in wonder, and the queen finally swallowed the fruit in her mouth. “You knew already?”

“Of course I knew.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to tell you as soon as you were done,” Zelda pierced her with a stare, and Alena shrugged sheepishly, “But you got there first.” The half-eaten bowl of food was placed on a nearby stool before she ran a hand down her face dreadfully. “I lost my appetite. Help me out.”

Her hair was tied up in a bun, and the maid retrieved a towel while Zelda stood and let the water drip from her body. Alena walked out to prepare her outfit, and the queen took her time to dry herself in the warm atmosphere of the bathroom, going as far as drying well the juncture between every toe just to delay her exit.

Alena was bouncing in place by the time she exited, curly hair jumping up and down, she could hardly hide her excitement, but Zelda would make her wait until she was fully dressed to share some of what she knew. It was always like that with the queen, and by now her friend should be used to it, but she enjoyed these things too much for her own good. Even with the windows closed and fire burning in the fireplace the chamber was cold, making goosebumps rise on her skin. She could only imagine how the weather would be when winter finally came.

The corset was tight around her torso and the underskirt prickled her skin in an uncomfortable way; dressing for daily activities was never good, and dressing up for special occasions was even worse. The dress for that, at least, was a nice shade of red that she liked, dark and faded out, with long sleeves that she could hide her hands into and keep them warm, perfect for these kind of days. Zelda was the kind of person that felt cold very easily, but still enjoyed winter immensely.

On top of her work desk was the box she was looking for, filled with folded woolen socks of somber colors. Alena always knew where her things were kept, and now the queen was happy that her feet would not have to be victims of the weather. She happily sat down on a fancy cushioned chair to put on her socks and boots worn on the day before, and her maid waited patiently until she was done to untie and prepare her hair.

Tea was poured, a rich infusion of different herbs that Zelda could not quite tell what was in there, but it tasted better than black tea and woke her up just as much as coffee. The cup barely touched her unpainted lips when Alena spoke up. “So?”

Zelda sighed, almost in defeat. “You are so...” And rolled her eyes, a small frown on her lips. “It was supposed to be a secret.”

“It always is.”

The queen pursed her lips, and lowered the cup to the saucer. “He found an abandoned baby in the streets and took him in yesterday, in the evening.” A sharp intake of breath came from behind her, and her companion tugged a little too hard on a lock of her hair, causing her to wince. Alena murmured an apology, but Zelda did not acknowledge it and merely rubbed the spot between her eyebrows. “Hero Link came to me last night, asking for help. He cannot raise a child on his own now, and I do not have enough experience to help alone.”

Blue and gold met in the mirror, and pink lips fell open when the queen quirked an eyebrow suggestively. “You want my help.” Alena deadpanned, and it sounded like she was being invited to save the world from great chaos.

“I know no other who would do better.”

Zelda was aware Link would feel more comfortable with someone he already knew and trusted, like Uli, around the little boy, but there was no time to waste in summoning and waiting for her to arrive. He would have to accept what they had at the moment, and their best option was Alena. Telma probably knew how to take care of a baby, but she was out of town, how long would it be until she arrived?

Alena tied the locks together, finishing the braid. Now she only needed to put in the place the spaulders, jewels and headpiece.

* * *

Her advisor and assistant, a kind old man that had been around since her father’s reign, had taken some days off until he was cured of a terrible flu and fever, leaving her with a squire that would carry documents around when needed and keep her company. The youth was no older than Link, no doubt inspired by the hero and his courageous deeds to join the Royal Guard and defend the kingdom after they had been attacked. A boy with too much to learn, with light curly hair and olive eyes, freckles on his face, and a chubby build.

He stuttered, tripped in his own words, voice cracking and failing, but she was patient. He had never gone this far into the castle, this close to the queen’s chambers, nor this close to her. Standing outside the closed doors of her bedroom, Alena fixed her attire one last time before curtsying and heading to the stairs, getting out of sight just as their ruler made to follow her steps.

Zelda was on the fifth step when she decided to speak, for the poor squire would not manage to speak on his own. “Alexander, is it?”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.” He was probably calculating in his mind, she believed, what was the perfect distance to be kept between the two of them. “May I read your schedule for the day?”

“Please do.”

Alexander reproduced a scroll from within his coat judging by the shuffling noises, and after rolling it open and clearing his throat, he spoke, not without stuttering at least twice. “At nine thirty, Your Majesty has a meeting with your council, which is estimated to last for two hours. At eleven thirty, Goron patriarch Darbus has requested to see you to discuss trading routes. At one in the afternoon-”

“Ah, Alexander.” He froze in place and glanced up to see her going in the incoming General’s direction, his dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. “Contact my council, please. Tell them I have moved our meeting to three in the afternoon.” He knew better than to ask, so bowed and backed away until he was a fair distance and went off to find the men.

The General’s face was not quite friendly as it would have been on most days, so Zelda could only think of one thing: he had found Alena and she had let something slip. When it came to the General, she always forgot her boundaries. “General Tolfan, how great it is to see you.” She greeted with what she hoped to be was a pleasant smile, but these past days or months she had a hard time in making them seem convincing. “I trust your morning has been enjoyable so far?”

“It has, Queen Zelda.” His mismatched eyes told her otherwise. “A little bird has told me Hero Link is to train our guard. Tell me, is that true?”

“Why yes, it is.” She resumed striding, and he went after her at a much closer distance than the squire. “Only for a handful of days, though.”

General Charles Tolfan was from a noble house, eight years old her senior, and number one on the council’s list of their favorite possible suitors for her. He was not in the throne room when Zant appeared, but he led the counterattack against his forces, barely surviving the fight. She was being practically dragged to the tower even though she agreed to go willingly when she spotted two shadowy creatures taking his limp unconscious body out of sight and out of reach, responding to Zant’s commands in a language she did not speak as he gripped her wrist tight enough to leave a bruise.

Charles had his insecurities, just as she had. It was no secret to her that he saw Link as competition and feared that he would be replaced after the farm boy emerged victorious from the battle with the vicious Gerudo king. Zelda did not blame him for feeling like that; she, too, had thought the people would have wanted her out, yet there they were, in the same positions they occupied before Hyrule was plunged into chaos. He did not need to worry; it was just a week or two of training.

“It has come to my attention that the Royal Guard has been slacking off, especially during the night.” She spoke over the sound of their steps and nodded to every servant they crossed paths with. His face was clear in her mind, even if she could not see it. A hesitant, afraid expression; ever since the invasion he had been doubting his qualities and abilities. “Hero Link is only going to teach the guards a few... Techniques and hopefully inspire them to be...”

“Better.” The general finished the sentence for her.

“Braver,” she corrected and they went the rest of the way to the training grounds in silence.

He was to her what Midna was once to Link, a shadow, but in a different sense. He followed her in events, balls, festivities, escorted her to other kingdoms by following her carriage on his horse through the field, and hardly left her side, on usual and unusual days, because once they were close to losing and dying, and he would do all he could to keep the kingdom whole, give his life in exchange of hers. The scar under his left eye was a reminder of a time when she was ambushed and he stepped in to save her, earning a bloody slash on his cheekbone, and yet not being fully able to stop her from being injured by the opposing party. Since then, he had grown the habit of berating himself and pushed himself harder so he could protect her, eventually rising to the role of General of the Royal Forces.

There was not much he could have done to stop Zant, though she could see in his eyes, one blue and one hazel, that his lack of action would haunt him forever; but when the Queen of Hyrule has a blade pressed to her neck, all you can really do is lower your weapon to the ground and follow some stranger’s orders and hope there will not be much bloodshed.

Charles was constantly scared, and so was she.

They reached the grounds where Link was already, sitting on a pile of crates and looking on as both graduated guards and trainees did reps and reps of push-ups. He stood to greet them, bowed to her and nodded to the general, who would have normally offered a hand, but he and Link were just as friends as he and Alena were: they were not. Zelda was caught in a circle of animosity, in which she needed all of the people in her life, but none of them got along together. She hoped Alena and Link would have good first impressions of each other, now if only he warmed up a bit.

She did not see a shudder coming, so it was hard to hide it. Charles’s coat was draped over her shoulders as he moved past her to stand beside the blond male, arms crossed in a similar fashion, and they shared an odd glance before letting their gazes fall on the panting guards. “What do you got?”

Zelda moved to the sidelines to sit on the very same crates, trying to fit in in a place in which she only stood out. Link explained something to Tolfan, things she would not understand, and they shared some more words between the two of them while some of the men shouted that it was enough. At least it appeared they could work together when it meant keeping the people safe.

* * *

Link came to her side after he was done telling them to run some laps around Hyrule Castle to build stamina, seeing as they were lacking it. Charles decided to tag along willingly, one for he too wanted to get better, and two for he could keep an eye on everyone. He left his sword by her feet before departing, kindly asking her to look after it while he was away.

“Should we get on to business?”

Zelda was aimlessly walking around having grown tired of sitting still, hands keeping the coat on her shoulders. “Where is the baby?” She inquired, and he gave a pointed look to a bush behind her. There she found the little boy, his head sticking out of an empty potato sack “Sweet Nayru,” Zelda murmured, bending her knees to better pick the infant up in her arms, “What were you thinking?” Voice harsh, she kicked the empty sack away.

He went after her as she returned to the crates. “How was I supposed to come in here with a baby out in the open?”

“Everyone already knows.” Carefully, she ran a finger on his cheek, which was not as chubby as it should be. He was malnourished, badly so.

“What!?” So he was not aware of that either. “Oh, fuck.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he rolled his in response. “I get it now. I went out early in the morning to get some supplies.”

“And what were these supplies?” The boy had her hair on his mouth and was happily munching on it. She did not know whether to think he was only playing or if he was hungry.

There was a brief moment of silence and hesitation before he spoke again, “Only a baby bottle. I did not know what else to buy.”

She resisted the urge to sigh out loud as she started to make way for the doors. “Could you get his sword for me, please?” Zelda gently pried her hair away from the baby’s mouth and let him play with her long sleeves instead. She repeated her words once more, more firmly this time, when she did not hear him moving.

Link finally bent down to pick the weapon, albeit a bit reluctantly.

She walked them to the kitchen, though she believed he knew the way by now, and for the first time he was by her side, probably so he could hide the baby from view. The servants that passed by them did little to try to hide their curiosity as they gaped and goggled at the infant in her arms, so a cool glare from their queen was enough to send them away with their heads bowed low. Soon they would be used to the boy’s presence in the castle and would not feel the need to look at him as if he had a tail and scales all over his body, or perhaps they would never get used to it.

At least Zelda knew that they were aware the baby was not hers – and by they, she meant the castle personnel and the entire population of Hyrule, because soon everyone else would know that she was seen carrying this child around. Maybe a person that lived in a secluded little village could hide their pregnancy from most people, but for someone that was as well-known as her, it was much, much harder, not to mention that if she, the Queen of Hyrule, were to be pregnant, then she was compelled to tell the population that.

And most importantly, she should be married by then.

They needed a name for him. It was hard naming a baby when you knew so many people and did not want to reuse a name, unless they created a brand new one. She had a faint feeling that he would make one up that reminded him of the Twilight Princess, but what she did not know; there was always the possibility that Midna taught him some basic words in Twili, so the child could be named anything, really.

Alexander, who was running to meet them in the courtyard, skidded to a halt and bowed to her, then stood there gaping like a fish at Link, who looked at her seeking an answer. “Hero Link, this is Alexander. He is a squire, a soldier in training still.” The youth gave him a faltering big grin, cheeks flushing red. “He was appointed by my advisor to keep me company while he is at home.”

Link nodded curtly, and the squire quickly went to stand behind the both of them. “I thought of a name for the baby.”

Oh. “What is it?”

“Declan,” he announced proudly, as if he had spent hours thinking of something intricate.

She spied the baby, his brown eyes and dark, thin hair. “Declan fits him.” Better than any name she would never be able to pronounce correctly, honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's worth mentioning that just last night I posted how I see Alena and Charles Tolfan (/post/151084378799) and there is an earlier version of Charles as well (/post/133563256964). You can find them both under the tag concepts: cold as ice
> 
> Also, yeah. Yeah I named the baby after Patrick Stump's son because I'm trash? But it's up to you how you visualize him. Aside from the eyes and and the dark hair color, you can imagine Declan as being of race and color, among other things.


	4. iv: Majorelle Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays!!

Alexander was sitting on the ground and keeping Declan entertained with a carrot whilst Alena taught Link how to properly clean a baby bottle and see if the milk temperature was just right. Zelda just sat on a chair, eyes darting between the two duos, feeling glad that Link accepted her maid’s help without questioning. She was a stranger to him, but a very good mother that could certainly be helpful. And she guessed that he would trust someone that she trusted, too, but there was no telling.

Alena would teach her later all these thing if needed, and the squire was dragged along because someone would need to help the maid on those days when their queen passed out in the afternoon due to exhaustion. Link would not always be able to look after Declan when he was out and about doing whatever it was that he did, and that was where they came in.

Link was eager to feed his son – it still sounded weird to her ears, she admitted – but he allowed the mother of three and now babysitter to feed Declan first so he could see how it was done. The child was hungrier than he appeared, drinking most of the bottle in just a few minutes, tiny closed fists placed by the sides of the clear glass. The father took in the position of her arms, his head, the angle of the bottle, but later it would be his turn and they would put it to test. Alena gave him a few tips, rocking gently from side to side.

“It would be best if we could feed him some real baby milk,” she confessed while putting away the now empty bottle, “But goat milk will have to do for now, until we see a doctor.”

Zelda looked on as Declan was moved to an upright position, head over her shoulder, and Alena gave gentle pats on his back until he burped. So far, everything seemed simple enough. “Would you go to town buy us some diapers and pins, Alexander?” He stood from the ground, nodding all the while. “You will probably have to make some other trips as we realize we need more things.”

“I am happy to be of help, My Queen.” The squire bowed at the waist, then turned to the other three people in the kitchen, “Hero Link, ma’am... Declan,” a nod to each, and he went on his way.

Link waited some seconds before commenting, arms crossed over his chest. “Such a good lad.”

“So he is,” Alena cut in, passing the baby to his arms so she could clean what they had used. “My Queen, I believe you have an appointment with Chief Darbus now?”

It took her a while to notice she was being talked to, and by the time her chin left her palm, even Declan was looking at her curiously. “You are right,” she did not glance their way still, blue-grey eyes fixed on the ripe oranges piled neatly on the fruit bowl. “I will be on my way now, then.”

The chair scrapped on the floor, and the queen exited the kitchen without a word more.

* * *

Meeting with Darbus, or any other Goron, always felt like a brand new experience, even if she had gone through it millions of times before. Gorons were... Peculiar in their eating habits, and it was impolite to meet with someone and not offer them anything – that was the story of how she always found herself staring at a bowl of mined rocks from a slope near Lake Hylia, placed neatly by a towered plate of pastries. And a jar of cow milk, another of goat milk, a teapot of black tea, and a jar of clear mineral water. Gorons could be picky, or at least, Darbus could be.

Rumors got to her ears that the Goron Patriarch had been greatly affected by the Twilight over the land, and that Link helped him through it. Gor Coron never got around to giving her many details, she hardly met with the other Goron elders, and a certain someone still refused to let her in. She hoped none of them would come to her asking for help; what could she do when she knew nothing of what went on then?

Darbus was there to speak of their trade agreement, iron for weapons and armors, copper for kitchen utensils, precious gemstones for jewels, and the list went on, but so far all he did was stare at her. That was all the Gorons ever did when meeting her, actually: stare. It was enervating and unsettling, but she held herself together and went with it with a fake smile on her face. Zelda would have to remember later to ask Alena if she had something to do with it, which she probably had, but she would also bet her crown that something would happen and would make her forget. Alena always went around saying their queen was weird ever since that turn of events.

After he seemed satisfied with his staring, he reached for the freshly mined rocks. “I heard on my way here that Link has a baby.”

Zelda wanted nothing more than to sigh and slump against her loveseat; it was getting ridiculous. “So, he has.” Her fingers played with the wing of the cup absentmindedly. “Declan. A pretty boy, thin dark hair, brown eyes.”

“Is he his?”

She shook her head. “Adopted, so to say.” The patriarch cupped his chin on a strong hand, and then nodded. “You came alone this time. What happened to Gor Coron? He never declines a visit to Castle Town.”

Darbus poured himself some cow milk, and for the first time in a while added some black tea to it. Zelda did not miss the way he looked at her like he was aware of her evading the subject; truth was she did not want to talk about Declan, or Link, and not even about the Twilight Invasion, so if the patriarch decided to finally share some of his insight, she would decline. She glanced out the window overlooking the plains of the northern region of Hyrule Field, and wished she could lay down on the vibrant grass and nap under the sun, even with the chill air around.

“Gor Coron stayed to take part in a sumo wrestling tournament organized by our fellow brothers that is to happen tonight.” He tried to be discreet in smelling the mixture he just created, and a shadow of a smile appeared on her lips. “He apologizes for not coming.”

Zelda sipped her pure black tea, “It is nothing that cannot be forgiven.”

Alexander had thought ahead of her and left the documents needed on the center table, placed far from the jars of drinks. Zelda still did not understand why there was the need to come and talk for the third time that year about their trade agreements seeing as they had settled everything in the first meeting, but you try to deny something to Darbus and see what happens. He would probably talk about the routes and how they were dangerous for his people. Imagine that, beings made of rock travelling through roads, passing by farms of simple human beings, much weaker and fragile than they were. So dangerous to their health.

One Goron could handle five armed humans. There was nothing to talk about.

She placed her cup and saucer on the table, and picked the files up, flipping through them while keeping her gaze focused on the patriarch, who was currently swirling the contents of his own cup. He was never going to drink that. “Very well,” Darbus placed it down, in a way that made it seem he enjoyed the concoction immensely, “Where do you want to start?”

* * *

By the time they were done with their meeting, which was incredibly short as she had expected and anticipated, Alexander had returned from town and was waiting for them outside the door, standing guard under Tolfan’s commands. He was missing out on an incredible training having to accompany her on her daily tasks, but the General would teach him everything if she asked him nicely enough, of that she was sure.

Zelda invited Darbus to have a meal with her, so he would not have to leave shortly after he had just arrived. “I will not keep you for too long after that,” she promised him, knowing that he, too, wanted to take part in that tournament happening back in Death Mountain.

They were heading to the dining hall when they crossed paths with Link, no Alena or Declan in sight. He had probably gone to the training grounds to explain the next phase of the training, and fell into step with both leaders, inviting himself to tag along. Both he and the Goron patriarch shared a warm grin and a vigorous handshake, a few words in greeting and pleasantries, until they quieted and slowed down, following silently after their queen.

She was for the first time in a while glad that lunch was to be had with someone other than her own shadow, or occasionally Alena or Charles when they could accompany her, but Alena could never join her, and now it would be like she was alone, because Darbus and Link would talk and talk about things they knew, but she did not, and she would be left to pick at her food while they had a good time. They would have fun, and Zelda would live like any other day.

Sometimes she wondered what she did to live like that. Maybe agreeing to be born a princess did not mean happiness came in the contract, or self-love and a sense of trust. Zelda frequently wondered if her ancestors went through the same emotionally, feeling stoic and broken after their kingdom was torn to pieces by a madman. Did the princess of the Era of the Hero of Time feel just as hopeless, just as lost? Did she sit idle as she had, watching as everything crumbled before her eyes? What of the hero, did he ever forgive her? And the first Zelda... Did she experience any of that? Guilt, for pushing an innocent man into war, making him battle for her?

Link did not know her, then. What if he had stopped, refused to help? What would have happened to her kingdom, to her people, to her?

They would all be dead.

“Queen Zelda?” It was Darbus; he seemed closer than she last remembered.

“Yes?”

“You halted suddenly.” And indeed, she had. She resumed walking as if it had not happened, just as she lived day by day pretending Hyrule was not invaded by beings from other dimension.

Her hands were shaking; she pressed them against her navel to hide them from sight. Her throat was dry, it was hard to breathe, and her vision was blurry. At times she considered Alena’s words and came to the conclusion that, yes, she was never the same since the attack –she liked to believe it had empowered her and taught her things, and it had – but she refused to believed it had affected her negatively. She was strong, and Zant was weak. He could torture Charles, he could torture her and her people, but he would not break her.

He did not break her. He did not.

Zelda laced her fingers together firmly. Sometimes it was hard dealing with so many bottled up emotions. She had no way of letting them out; queens should not cry, and she did not cry since her parents passed away, so why would she cry now over something as insignificant as this? She could not break things, or hurt someone, or herself, that was out of question. It was hard to eat her feelings away, because usually she lost her appetite, or get drunk – imagine that, the matriarch of Hyrule, drunk. Ridiculous.

She slowed down to a stop, coming face to face with General Tolfan before the closed doors of the dining hall. “Your Majesty,” his eyes searched her face then stole a quick glimpse at the two men behind her, “Are you well?”

Zelda smiled, doing a poor job in hiding its bittersweetness. “I am, General Tolfan.” A soft frown touched his brown and he opened the door of the dining hall for her. “Thank you for asking.”

In the end, Charles joined them, or he was planning to join her all along. He sat by her right and Link across from her, a detail that increased her anxiety and the levels of awkwardness in the room, and Darbus sat to Link’s left – the chief seemed to be oblivious to it, thankfully, and did most of the talking before the meal arrived while both male Hylians shared borderline hostile glares at each other. Zelda could see where Charles was coming from, but to see Link shooting him these stares got her preoccupied.

She had more things to worry over, like her meeting with the council later in the afternoon, which promised to give her a great headache by the time it was done. First, they would get on her nerves for delaying the meeting without previous warning, even though she had demanded that word reached them at least one hour before the assigned time, and then they would get nowhere for some solid three hours, pretending they were too old to do their jobs, but they were not old enough to complain about her behind her back. As soon as her advisor came back from his days off, she would ask him to go through the law and see if it was time for them to be replaced. They had been there since her grandfather was still alive.   

The dish of the day was roasted lamb, baked potatoes, broccoli and peas, served with a side salad of mixed greens, edible flowers, and fresh berries – and only rocks for Darbus. The smell made her stomach grumble quietly, and she remembered her breakfast was a half-eaten bowl of fruits, some tea and nothing more, and all of that had been digested well over five hours ago. She went for the vegetables first, listening to the Goron talking about the sumo wrestling tournament and feeling someone’s heavy stare on her.

Then she looked up and caught Link’s eyes – and her appetite immediately vanished for the second time that day.

Zelda leaned back on her seat, a hand on her lap and the other resting at the base of her red wine glass, dull gaze fixated on the crimson liquid inside. The talk was just a buzz in her ears and the movements were a blur; as the days passed, she considered getting more hours of sleep, maybe her own day off was in order. Too much stress and too much work could have its toll on a person, and if she did not take care, she could fall victim of a disease. The castle’s medic was to return from a short trip in a day or two; maybe he could see her after he checked on Declan’s health.

A hand entered her line of vision, and she jumped, startled. It made Darbus’s eyes narrow, which attracted the hero’s attention. “My Queen,” it was Tolfan speaking soothingly, “you need to eat.”

Her pulse was racing, beating wild at the base of her throat. “I... Am not hungry, General Tolfan.”

“Miss Alena told me you practically skipped breakfast this morning,” he continued, more sternly this time. She inhaled deeply, turning her head to look him in the eye. “Eat.”

Zelda held her stance for a while, but knew that she would have to give in. She would not last long in the meeting with the council if she skipped lunch, and it was not good for her health, which was not already perfect and running smooth. She lifted her hand from her lap and grabbed her fork, and all but stabbed the last broccoli that remained in her plate, taking it to her mouth. Charles only turned away once she had swallowed the food and was picking up more, and nodded to the Goron before him.

It took great effort, but she finished the potatoes, peas, and half the lamb in her plate. The wine went down easy and quick, she needed something to get by and something to warm her up, since the fire was not doing its job. Alexander chose that moment to arrive from his own lunch break in the kitchen, bowed and saluted by the doors, and decided to stand guard outside of it. Tolfan joined him a moment later after finishing his own meal, correcting his form and giving him some tips; the youth took it all in with a shine in his eyes and a big grin on his face. It was probably the best day of his life, to have the chance of talking to his two idols like that.

Darbus waited until Charles was done with his short lecture and excused himself from the table, walking out the room so they could talk. The patriarch should take a few lessons in how to be a good liar and how to pretend you are not going to do what you are about to do, because Zelda could see right through him and read him like an open book. It was as clear as water that they were going to talk about her skipping meals and about her mental health.

That left her alone with Link, who was not done yet with his food, and it was impolite to leave him there. The general thankfully had not touched his drink so she claimed it as hers, noticing the way the hero followed her hands all the way to the glass, and the glass all the way to her lips. Maybe she should consider getting drunk in secret, it was getting too much.

Zelda immediately lowered the glass to the table. She did not eat enough to be drinking that much now.

“Alena is keeping an eye on Declan while I train your guard.”

Her fingers played with a ring around her thumb, “I figured as much.”

Link looked at her as if she was doing no effort into making it easier or better for the both of them, and that made her blood boil. Though she was not sure if he meant that or if she was seeing things, the implication was too much, because he was no better than her. Who was he to talk?

He, gladly, finished his meal soon after, and stared at her until she decided to say anything, but she was too occupied focusing all of her attention on the last pea left on his plate. She motioned him away with a hand after a while, and remained on her seat for a little longer.


	5. v: Bondi Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! It's been quite a long time; I don't think I can apologize enough for that. I go through phases with my insterests and ships as you must have notice by now (or I must have mentioned before, I don't remember). But anyways, I resolved some issues I had with this and now I think it'll flow smoothly in the direction I want it to go. I plan on start writing chapter nine soon, hopefully tomorrow. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

* * *

**v: Bondi Blue**

* * *

 

Zelda woke up on the following day with a dull throbbing on her head, a slight pain on her back, and clothed feet.

Thankfully, the meeting with her council on the previous day had dragged on for long enough that she managed to avoid everyone else that could elevate her levels of stress. Darbus went away only after she emerged from within the dining hall, which was ten minutes after she shooed Link from there, and said man decided to stick around until she showed up again and promised he would attend to the sumo-wrestling tournament.

Charles tried speaking with her after the Goron rolled away from the front doors, but she did not want to and her time was growing short, so Zelda may have sounded a bit harsh when she said “ _not now_ ” and went away, leaving both men to their training and devices. It was nice to know there were people who cared for her, but when they did all of it behind her back and were not as open with her as they should be, why even bother? It only made her feel worse.

Before going to bed, she promised herself she would try to eat more on every main meal, but already she woke up without an appetite. Zelda hardly had the time to open her eyes and Alena was already waltzing inside her room, a tray in her hands with all utensils clinkering together with her steps, and the princess rolled away from the noise with a sigh. “Good morning, Your Majesty!” Her friend happily greeted in a singsong voice as she placed the tray on the table by the flower vase, and moved to the window to throw the curtains open, allowing the sun inside.

Zelda brought her comforters to her head and hid her face in them, wishing she could spend her day lying in bed just staring at the ceiling, doing nothing. Alena seemed to have other ideas as she tried to tug away the blankets while humming a happy tune that sounded oddly familiar. The queen had to acknowledge all of her friend’s positivity, and her personnel who always had smiles on their faces; sometimes she wondered if they were always so friendly just to make her day a bit brighter.

“I am awake,” she really tried not to whine, and managed to keep it quiet. “Just let me enjoy the warmth for a while longer.”

The maid laughed and released the blankets, “Fine, Your Majesty, but if you fall asleep, I will pull it all away.” There was a quiet hum as response before she disappeared into the closet to pick the outfit for the day.

Under her heavy covers, Zelda curled her toes and sighed into her pillow. She was in such bad mood lately, getting easily annoyed or sad or on the edge; she had yet to experience all three emotions at once. Her mind worked to think of all that was in her schedule that week, but she could not guess much past the present day, so perhaps Alexander would do a better job than her. She finally blinked her eyes open, face still under the covers, just as Alena exited the closet with a hanger in her hands.

She decided to skip bathing that morning. Instead, she sat by the table and decided to put some effort into making her breakfast look pretty, hoping it would increase her appetite, or just make her actually want to eat it. Alena was putting more logs in the fireplace as Zelda tried to peel a kiwifruit, and chopped it along with a banana and some fresh strawberries. Her friend started preparing her tea, staring silently with wonder, as Zelda arranged all the fruits on the half of an already seedless papaya, and topped with blueberries and a drizzle of honey. There, it looked pretty enough.

“Are you going to eat all of that?” She inquired as she poured hot water into the cup, finding it strange that her queen would eat a big portion given what was happening.

Zelda finished off with some almonds to make it prettier. “I need to.”

Alena did not know how to feel about that, but she was glad that at least Zelda was trying, and she made sure to remember to tell that to Tolfan later on. The queen sat still on her armchair by the fireplace as the maid brushed and played with her hair, and talked about all the gossip that happened in the span of a day, maybe aware that her words were falling on deaf ears. Zelda was not looking quite like herself that morning, seeming tired, pale, eyes lacking their usual shine, which was growing dimmer and dimmer as days passed if she could be honest. Alena asked if she would like to put some makeup on that day just to see how she would react, and Zelda agreed to it, though she may not have realized it.

Surprisingly, she did eat all of her meal, even if it took her about twenty minutes to eat some fruits. By then her hair was fully pinned up in a bun that would leave the nape of her neck exposed to the cold, something that she did not quite like, and Alena was free to do whatever she wanted to her face to make her seem healthier. Just some blush, lipstick and mascara would do the trick, and Zelda sat as still as a rock as her friend worked.

And she was dressed in a deep green gown what was velvety to the touch. It did not have long sleeves she could hide her hands into, but the collar on the back was higher and would hide part of the nape. It still did not compare to a day in her bed.

**::**

**::**

Alexander met with her later in her office. The poor thing looked terrified; he certainly had slept in that morning. “Do not worry, you did nothing unforgivable.” She said immediately as he entered in a rush, puffed cheeks red and eyes wide and startled.

“F-Forgive me, Your Majesty!” He apologized anyways whilst bowing, and Zelda looked up from her paper as he was maybe considering throwing himself on his knees. She would make it easier.

Writing her name at the bottom right in an elegant cursive letter, she commented right after. “Do you happen to know my schedule for the week?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.

“Good. What I am about to ask you may give you some, or a lot, of work.” She tried to smile reassuringly, but again it just felt forced. He did not comment on it and simply just nodded to show he was listening. “I want you to push as many meetings as you can to the same days, so that I have at least one day off, or most of it. I want it this week, and on the following, and on the next, and so on. Got it?”

The squire saluted, “Yes, Queen Zelda! I will get on to that right away.”

“Feel free to work where you find more suitable, and pay the postman an extra to get all the letters delivered in time.”

Alexander went away; she could see in his eyes that he was proud to be able to help the kingdom and its queen, to serve her from so close. She wanted to ask one more thing, but felt like she had already demanded too much in so little time, so Zelda was glad when he at least closed the door on his way out. She returned to her paperwork, that was not much, but it was enough to keep her occupied for a few hours, and started reading the next on the pile, one about repairs in Kakariko Village. She did not know all details yet, only that a handful of people from there had survived the Shadow Beast attack. The document was brief and did not explain it thoroughly, so she decided that the best course of action was to summon someone from there.

All of that took her around fifteen minutes, because she kept spacing out and could not focus on the problem at hand.

The next paper came. Ordon had to sell all its pumpkins before winter came around, and Zelda did not need to read all of it to sign it. If they did not sell them, they would not survive it. She should just give them a permanent permission to build their own stalls in Castle Town of pumpkins and goat goods during autumn, or all year long if they so desired. Ordonians were hard working people, and their main source of income came from agriculture; good pumpkins, milk and cheese were hard to find, so they would earn a lot.

Zelda was retrieving some blank paper from a drawer when someone knocked on her door. Maybe it was Alexander, hopefully with good news. “Come in.”

It was Link. “Your Majesty.” She looked at him, still leaning over the arm of her chair, and nodded when he bowed deeply before glancing back down. “I would like to have a word with you.”

A long, absentminded hum was the only answer she gave him as the queen placed the papers on the table before herself and reached for the quill on the holder. He either took that as a yes, or decided to invite himself further in. “May I sit?”

The queen sat quiet for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, seemingly unaware of his penetrating gaze on her face. After a few tense silent seconds, she replied, “You may,” as if he had just asked and she had not gotten lost within her mind again.

Link picked one of the two chairs, placed it directly across from her and sat down, but she had already returned to work. He watched as she dipped the tip of the quill into the deep blue inkpot and wrote the date and time on the top right of the paper, then to the left she began, _“Most Excellent Mayor Bo.”_

“Queen Zelda.” Again, she looked up, and he held her stare with a slight frown on his forehead. “You look different.”

One of her eyebrows twitched as she refrained from lifting it, but she forgot the fact that Alena had applied some makeup to her face that morning. “Maybe it is the lightning.” Zelda really felt like being sarcastic, but brushed the feeling aside and resumed her writing. It took her less than five minutes, and the permission was all written and ready to be sent. She lightly blew some air to help the ink dry and pushed it to the side and away from the center of the table.  “What is it that you want to talk about?”

The frown was still visible and prominent on his face, “Oh, so you can listen after all?”

“I am not ever in the mood for your snarky remarks, so please be quick and over with it, or be gone.”

Link did not appear to be surprised at all at how she flat out told him to leave if he decided to play games, but what really caught his attention was that she looked incredibly bored and exhausted. Two days around her and he was starting to see how much her life tired her out. He did not know her before the invasion, but seeing her now, he guessed her friends really did a reason to worry – if even Darbus was keeping a close eye on her, then things were more serious than he had anticipated.

Zelda looked like she had not slept well in at least a week. “I want you to participate more,” he said.

She blinked, taken aback. Clearly, she was not expecting that he would ask her to be more around Declan, or to interact more with him, at all. “I would love to,” she told him sincerely, though she doubted her words sounded convincing. Nothing was working out lately. “But there is so much I need to do with winter approaching.”

“I asked for your help.”

“Hero Link, I do not even know how to hold a baby correctly.” Zelda confessed in a distressed breathy sentence, followed by a weary sigh. “I will try, alright? I cannot promise more than that.” She honestly wanted to dig a hole on the ground of her study and bury herself there. To have him there on the second day asking her to be more present made her feel all sorts of unwanted feelings, as if she was the parent that did not give their child the attention he needed.

That idea made her very queasy, her stomach twisting into knots. Was he implying she would never be a good mother, or was she reading too much into his words? Either way she felt like she could vomit, so Zelda quickly poured some water to herself and downed it in a matter of seconds lest she embarrass herself before the hero of her people. Link simply watched on as droplets dripped down her chin onto her lap until she wiped them away gingerly with her gloved fingertips, and stood from her chair to stand closer to the windows behind her desk.

Nayru knew she would do all she could to raise her children well.

There was another knock, and the door opened without her needing to tell the person to come inside. Charles Tolfan looked from Link sitting alone by the table to Zelda overlooking the east courtyard. “My Queen.” She turned her head slightly to the side so he could see three fourths of her face, and would have to be content with it. “I hope you are feeling well today.”

“I am,” Zelda replied after a moment’s hesitation, “Thank you for your concern, General Tolfan.”

Link glanced at the other man, noticing the faltering small smile on his features. “Perhaps you should take a walk outside this afternoon, Your Majesty. It would do you some good.”

She simply hummed, too captivated by something down below. “What brings you here?”

“Alena asked me to pass you the message that your meal should be ready soon since she could not find Alexander to do it. It will be earlier today seeing as you have a meeting with Count and Countess Emolien.”

“Ah, yes.” Zelda lowered her head and looked down at her feet, eyes searching for something. “It is today. I had forgotten.” She returned to her desk then, opened another drawer and looked through it until she found a purple envelope. Folding in half the permission she previously wrote, she slid it inside the envelope, closed the flap and sealed it with hot wax, finishing off with a stamp of the royal family. “Hero Link, if you would please send this to Ordon with one of those hawks of yours.”

Link looked at the letter she passed him curiously, and then asked, “How do you know that I can call hawks?”

The queen returned to her spot looking out the windows, because then maybe both of them would get the hint that she wanted to be left alone. “Colin tells me more about you than you ever did.”

**::**

**::**

Despite not looking like she was listening to the advices people told her, Zelda considered Tolfan’s words and found herself some alone time to stroll through her gardens to cool her mind before sunset and twilight hour. Groups of birds were flying away back to their nests, and there were no beautiful butterflies in sight to keep her company, not that she wanted any. She told her guards to stay at the entrance, and only allow people that were close to her to enter if really needed.

She stood there for a moment feeling awkward, as if she was visiting old family friends or relatives that she had not seen in months. Zelda could not remember the last time she entered these grounds, and she felt oddly sad that she had not tended to her flowers like she used to in the past. Before they were a hobby, now they could be her therapy.

Her gardening tools were inside a little stone cabinet built by the outer walls surrounding the castle. She placed a worn out towel by a rose bush so she could kneel on it without dirtying her dress and set to work, even if there was not much she needed to do, because the gardeners made sure to keep her plants healthy; they knew she would be sad if they died because she neglected them.

The roses were in full bloom and were the size of her palm. Yellow was one of her favorite colors, and these were so pretty she wanted to have them on her vanity, but knew they would be prettier here where they would last longer. As she delicately cut off the few dry leaves left, Zelda mused on how these flowers reminded her of _her._ Her heart was a beating mess as she thought of how they would look like under the setting sun, much like the color of her fiery hair.

Zelda brushed the dead leaves under the bushes, where they would rot and feed the soil, before she decided to stand and fill a watering pot instead. She watered her yellow roses, then the pink peonies, and the daisy patch. Her garden was so colorful it brought a soft smile to her face, and made some of the heaviness inside her dissipate. The queen walked around bush after bush, flower after flower, refilling the pot at the small fountain at the center when it was empty, and started over again.

She was joined by Link later after she was finished and was sitting on a stone bench, just watching her flowers and feeling the breeze on her skin. Declan was in his arms, wide awake and ogling the flowers like it was the first time he had seen some, which she did not doubt. The hero invited himself to take a seat by her side at a respectful distance, and then turned to her with a nearly blank expression.

“Do you want to hold him?” At that moment, many things crossed her mind, but none of them was yes. About half of it was no, a majority of the rest were a bunch of excuses, and what was left was something that made her want to inch away, but still she looked at him and extended both her arms in his direction.

Link folded them back against her chest with a hand, placed them correctly before passing the baby to her, noticing how she held her breath. He had to admit how strange it was; she seemed comfortable around the baby in the first night after he explained the facts, now she was on the edge, wide eyed and tense. Zelda hardly breathed, probably afraid that any slight movement could scare Declan and make him cry. “You are doing fine,” He reassured her, and she only moved her eyes to look at his face. She did not even move her head.

Declan had already associated her image with the one of long brown hair, so he was looking at her with a funny face when he saw none to play with. All of it was tied up, and she had no sleeves to keep him occupied, so the baby tried to reach for one expensive looking necklace around her neck, but it was hard thanks to her rigid posture. “Maybe we should buy him some toys.”

“Perhaps, we should.” Link agreed with a nod and took him back from her arms, which immediately fell limp once the child was secure in his hands. He chose not to comment. “I am going to the kitchen to feed him. Would you like to come?”

“You can go ahead,” her gaze flickered to the baby, then back up to his eyes. “I will catch up with you two.”

Once his footsteps were fainter and distant enough, Zelda stared back up at the sky and noticed its changing colors. The roses, indeed, were painted vibrant hues, reminiscing the color of a certain Twilight Princess’s hair. Her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress by her knees, the wind grew colder too quickly for her to notice and so she was left with goosebumps all over her covered skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, gaze heavenwards, looking, searching for something or anything, thoughts running too fast for her to keep up.

Under the changing sky, the matriarch sat alone waiting for an answer, or a sign, or a miracle, though she could not say what she was waiting for exactly. And when the sky darkened completely and the first stars were out in the open twinkling, and guards came looking for her with lanterns because she was all by herself in the dark, Zelda lamented her Wisdom could not save her from herself.


	6. vi: Glaucous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing when I started this this story is that I was trying to project how my depression affected me onto Zelda. I don't remember if I ever got to say this, nor do I know if you picked up on it on your own, but that's the deal behind her apathy, so to say, and troubled thoughts. Her kingdom was invaded and Link helped save it. Obviously, that affected her deeply. So along with these feelings, she wants to pay him in kind, but doesn't have the energy to do so and her conflicting thoughts don't make it easier.
> 
> I'm just giving an explanation in case you're wondering why she is acting this way. I don't think TP Zelda is like this in canon; I was just... projecting. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**vi: Glaucous**

* * *

Some days were better than others. One bad day did not mean she should give up, just as one good day did not mean life was great, but Zelda was glad not to feel any pain at all when she woke up that morning; it was a sign things were starting to look up.

Currently, she found herself at the infirmary ward of the castle, after taking her time once again to prepare her fruity breakfast. It indeed made her want to eat, and for a fleeting moment, she considered trying to cook her other meals as well if it would help. The doctor, Nolan, had arrived from his short trip on the previous night, and she got the squire to deliver him a note saying he would be needed in the next morning. He had already probably heard of the baby Link found in the streets, and if that proved to be true, then he was aware of why he was summoned.

Alexander was standing by the doors, and Alena was filling the doctor in about all that had happened in the days he was away. The squire had succeeded in contacting all people who requested meetings, and changed her schedule for the week, managing to give her one full day to herself. Though in the following weeks he was not as lucky, he had changed things until she had at least one free afternoon or morning. She enjoyed that immensely, and let him know by complimenting all his hard work, which turned him into an even bigger stuttering mess.

Zelda was also exchanging letters with the shaman from Kakariko Village, Renado, trying to decide if it was best for him to visit her in the castle or if she should go there instead. Personally, she was leaning towards the latter, because then she would get to see how much damage had been done to the place, and how many people were left. Did they ever get around to counting how many people in total had died during the Twilight Invasion? She did not believe so.

The queen moved closer to the windows to absorb some sunlight, and watched as the general of her guard prepared the men for another day of training. “Your Majesty,” the soothing voice of her medic reached her ears, but it did little to calm her insides, “I was thinking we could do a checkup today. It has been a while since your last.”

“I was going to say that,” she commented, dragging her gaze across the courtyard until she found anything eye-catching. “I also have some concerns.”

“And what is it that bother you, Your Majesty?”

She did not continue for the fact that Link arrived just as the older man was finishing his sentence, and she would not have continued with Alena in the room either. Zelda did not want to give them more reasons to worry, or more reasons to talk behind her back about how preoccupied they were. None of them ever sat down to have a real talk with her and show some concern, but they always hinted at it and then backed off, like she was too emotionally detached to even notice what they were doing. Sometimes she guessed they underestimated her, other times she did not want to think about it.

“Doctor Nolan, this is Hero Link and Declan, his son.” Her feet brought her closer to the other people, simply because she did not want to seem as rude as she had on the previous day. “We need you to check up on the baby.” Zelda was all professional and less touchy-feely, unlike Alena who was already baby talking to the kid. She could not explain it, but even though she worried for the child’s wellbeing and overall health, she wanted to leave as soon as possible.

The elder man cleaned his round glasses with a floral handkerchief he reproduced from within his pocket. “Ah, Hero Link. It is an honor to finally meet the man who helped save the Zora heir, Prince Ralis.” Nolan offered a smile as he perched his glasses upon his nose bridge, and rolled up the sleeves of his coat to his elbows. “Would you please place the child on the bed? Without his shirt preferably.”

Link did so, and Declan stirred, still asleep, or half awake. It was too early in the morning, but it was the best time they had to talk to the doctor before he went to check on the other patients in Hyrule Castle and did a round around Castle Town looking for more people in need. It was through Prince Ralis herself that she heard that the only doctor in Castle Town, Borville, had a serious prejudice against those who were not Hylians, and the best course of action she found at the moment to solve the problem was to lend her own medic to the people until she could either get him in line, or out.

Nolan thoroughly washed his hand in a basin of water, dried them in a soft towel, and moved closer to the bed, where Alena had already placed his bag with all his equipment inside. Firstly, he just bent and extended Declan’s arms and legs to test his joints, and then placed a thermometer under his armpit to check his temperature. Zelda watched in silence as he used a stethoscope to check the baby’s heartbeat and breathing, and Link just shifted nervously in place on the other side of the room, crossing and uncrossing his arms, and sighing every few minutes.

It was hard to perform an exam on a weeks old baby who could not talk and tell if he felt any pain at all. They could only look on as Doctor Nolan tried to check his reflexes and look into his eyes searching for signs of something with the help of a flickering flame. Zelda had never seen Link bite down onto his knuckles so hard and turn away, but if he did not trust the man enough and thought he could drop it on the child, then he should not have stayed in the room.

“He seems healthy.” The doctor declared at last after one of the quickest exams he had ever done in his life. “No signs of fever, his reflexes are good and he has no bruises. Also, his heart and lungs are working perfectly.” The hero could have toppled over on a chair if there was one near him given the loud sigh in relief that left him. “He is malnourished, though. What have you been feeding him?”

Link cleared his throat before replying so his voice would not break. “Goat milk.”

“I would advise you to feed him baby milk.” Nolan said while helping Alena slip the shirt back on the baby, who was now very much awake.

“But... How?” He looked at the maid for clarification, but surprisingly it was the queen who spoke.

“Doctor Nolan, I worry we will not be able to find a wet nurse on such short notice.” Said man spied at her from over his shoulder and assented in agreement. “It will take us few days until we can find a reliable person to be around the baby.”

The man considered her words for a moment. “Then we must start looking immediately. In the meantime, I am sure Miss Alena here has a close friend who we can trust and who is willing to lend her breast for a day or two.”

* * *

After they left, Alena told Alexander to go to a certain address and look for her pregnant friend, for she would be able to help them if they explained how important it was, and then they went elsewhere, a place Zelda did not bother knowing and she was left with the doctor with whom she wanted to talk.

He checked her health, told her she should start eating normally again and try to de-stress in any way she found best, be it tending to her flowers or even going outside. Nolan suggested that she talked to someone to express how she felt, but that was literally the one thing she did not know how to do, nor did want to do, not to mention it would feel extremely awkward to go up to one of her closest acquaintances and just spill out everything she had been holding inside.

How would it feel to tell any of them about the Twilight Invasion? Imagine telling Charles that the madman who threatened to chop her head off was from another realm. Imagine explaining that she gave her soul to another being thanks to the powers of the Triforce, and that at some point she was not held captive at the castle anymore, like they all imagined she had been. Zelda doubted the other people who witnessed it knew all of the truth, even the rumored Resistence group she heard about, now imagine her who had been locked away in a tower for most of it.

She scratched the last option. There was no one she could talk with. No one, because one of them was trapped on the other side of a broken mirror, and the last remaining person she could trust was not trusting her. Therefore, she would have to deal with that on her own, somehow, and heal on her own. Zant did not break her. Ganondorf did not break her.

Sometimes, Zelda looked in the mirror and saw yellow eyes starring right back at her. It probably happened when they were in her throne room facing the Evil King, and if the ache in her physical body told her anything then, it was that she participated in a battle. Hiding the bruises from Alena for weeks was hard, but so was doing most things by herself when she could hardly move or walk. Whatever it was that happened, and however it was that Ganondorf got her body, left her with some serious problems to solve.

Zelda remained in the infirmary even after the doctor left, trying to come to terms that she would need to put her health before her people for a little while, but the more she thought of it, the more her body and mind rejected the idea. By the time she exited the room, Alexander had not yet returned from the streets, so she made way to the kitchen, where she would prepare some tea to calm her twisting stomach, which seemed to be quite sensitive lately and was causing her lots of trouble.

There she found both Link and Alena talking whilst waiting for her maid’s friend, Declan fast asleep once again in his arms. “Would you like some tea, my Queen?”

“I would, Miss Alena, but I can make it myself, not to worry.” That earned her a frown, but Zelda really wanted to put her time and energy into making her own foods and drinks, hoping it would give her that extra push needed.

It was a mystery to her where all the utensils or ingredients were placed, but at least there was already some water boiling over at the stone stove. Zelda eventually found herself a saucer and a teacup, and set them aside before she went looking through the many jars of seasonings and dry leaves for tea. Alena and Link slowly fell back into conversation as she unscrewed and sniffed each of the jars, wrinkling her nose at times, inhaling deeper at others, searching for chamomile or some other herb that was calming.

It did not take too long for the other woman to arrive, a wavy haired beauty with honey colored eyes and a fierce blush on her face. No doubt she was more embarrassed at the idea of meeting the Hero Chosen by the Goddesses and feeding his son, than she was of meeting the Queen of Hyrule in person. “Hero Link, this is Mel.” Alena introduced, and Zelda went back to preparing her tea once she found the dehydrated flowers at the back of the lower shelf.

Mel locked eyes with her, but perhaps it did not register in her head that it was Zelda who was standing before her, even if the crown was a clear sign. Either way, she did not mind it that the newcomer did not bow nor properly introduced herself to the queen, or paid her respects or all that laws and rules of etiquette dictated, Zelda just wanted to get out of there, and soon the three of them were talking, and Link seemed _happy._

Happy for his child, Zelda tried to convince herself, and just managed to almost burn herself in the process of taking the kettle from the stove, though at least she did a good job in hiding her wince from everyone else in the room. Around her, he was never that open, not even when he sought her for help, but then again cold rupees, gold and fortune could not feed his baby the way he needed, so she understood why he seemed to like Mel, and when he went to talk to her about her absence, she had nearly shooed him away.

She poured some water into her cup, then placed the chamomile inside her tea infuser and dipped it into the water, and went around looking for sugar. Alena was now explaining to her friend just what and why they needed her for, and Mel was not reluctant to accept it. From what she overheard, her baby was to be due in one month, so there would be plenty of time for them to feed Declan proper food. “Hero Link can pick you in his horse when needed, right? Walking too much when you are pregnant can be a pain.”

The queen did not know how to feel when he accepted so fervently.

Zelda added sugar to her tea. Maybe three tablespoons was a bit too much, but by now, she just did not care. If she could, she would toss the jar of sugar at a wall and say she had placed it back where it belonged just to relieve some stress, and it stressed her so to know that she could not help the savior of her people like a stranger could. Zelda cleaned what she could in the kitchen and left the infuser placed somewhere on the counter and strode towards the door; she had a very important meeting with her paperwork.

As she walked past the three, Mel had taken her breast to feed the baby. That was probably the first time Link had ever seen a breast.

“Alexander.” The sound of her voice, strangled perhaps, made all the conversation inside the kitchen cease, and if one concentrated hard enough they would hear the soft sounds of Declan suckling on milk.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She spilled some drink from her cup, part of it falling on the saucer, part falling on the floor, but she did not stop and the boy standing guard was quick to follow. “I need to change my schedule again.” The squire was quick to fetch a small notepad from an inner pocket of his coat. “Every day, with no exceptions, from six to seven in the evening, I am not to be disturbed, wherever I am.” Zelda waited until he had finished writing and placed his pencil away. “Let that be known.”

* * *

Lunch was a lonely experience that she very much needed, and the rest of the day dragged on at an excruciatingly slow pace. She just wanted the season to end, and soon. The sooner winter came and went, the sooner she would be able to have some restful nights of sleep. She was once again considering the possibility of drinking before bed; one small dose of wine before bed could do her some good, just to help relax. No need to get tipsy.

Just now, Zelda had finished watering her plants, and was watching the sun dipping below the line of the horizon. She did not bother recollecting her scattered thoughts, and instead just let them run free while blue turned orange, then pink, then deep purple and was finally turning dark blue. Her roses were again that fiery orange under the setting sun, glowing prettily, and soon they would wilt and she would be left with just a memory of her hair.

She had to wonder if Midna was also sitting somewhere staring at the sky thinking of them. What she did was perhaps the wisest decision, but they had been unprepared for it, neither had they expected it. Zelda hoped the Twilight Princess was taking this separation better than her – she could not talk for Link – but in her mind, Midna had been prepared from the moment she started warming up to them, having made her choice earlier at some point and not in the last minute.

They were separated, and were on good terms. Though they had not spoken much and made it known how much one liked the other, Zelda liked to believe she could call the Twili her friend. Maybe, Midna referred to her as a friend as well.

Soon it was dark and she had to light her lantern. Sitting in the cold left her feeling numb with her nails and lips slightly purple, but she would rather be out alone than inside with company, and besides the cold was always soothing. Her nose was impossibly cold also, and her cheeks must be flushed red, but at least it matched her pastel pink dress, she thought with a hint of humor as she rubbed her hands together and blew into them. “I love the cold,” Zelda whispered to herself, cool lips brushing the soft skin of her thumb.

She slipped her short pristine gloves on and stood from her stone bench, hooking her finger under the handle of the lantern before she went for the flowery archway that led to her gardens. There she found two new guards whose shifts had just started, and Link. “Your Majesty.” He did a reverence. “It seems no one is allowed to talk to you at certain times of the day.”

“Hero Link.” She nodded in response to his bow, and he accompanied her when she kept moving, the guards slowly following behind. “So it seems. Had a good day?”

He nodded. “We arranged for Mel to come over three times every day to feed him around the time of our main meals.” Ah, the Mel girl. Zelda had even forgotten about her, she admitted shamefully.

“How lovely,” it was all she could think of to say in reply. She did not think babies felt hunger the same way they did, or understood time, but she was not about to comment on anything. “And where is she now?”

“In a room in the first floor, feeding Declan again.” Zelda should have told them to wait for this girl elsewhere in the first place, or told them to feed the baby in some place that was not the kitchen. A place that was more comfortable, more proper. What a good hostess she was.

The guards stopped by the doors when the duo went inside the castle, and Zelda put out the flame of her lantern while suppressing a yawn. “The Royal Guard is improving well.”

She blinked and hoped he could not see in her eyes how tired she felt. “They are? These are wonderful news. Hopefully, in some days you will be free from this burden.” The queen clicked her tongue, touching her right hand to her temple, as she realized what she had just said. “I meant task.”

And there it was again, that frown in his face, which was becoming a familiar sight now, whilst Link watched her as she rubbed her temple lightly, avoiding his gaze. “Queen Zelda, are you feeling well?”

Zelda smiled. It was the same smile that appeared on her features when General Tolfan was the one asking: soft, small, gentle, and completely fake. “I am, Hero Link. Thank you for asking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Post Chapter Notes
> 
> \- I'll admit that I thought a lot about Game of Thrones talking about so much about winter (and a bit of north). Just help me, my feet are freezing it's cold!
> 
> \- Link, the cat hoarder. I wanted to do that for a while now
> 
> \- the original name of the story was Ice Cold, but then I remembered that song and I didn't want it to become a meme lmao


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